Where Writing Lives.

It's that last step, bottom-of-the-spiral place I'm keenly aware exists. I also feel I could go there, that's where the writing lives. That's where darkness and release live. Honestly, I'm a coward. I've never been there. I've imagined it and at times imagined I was there. It's false to say I've truly gone. It feels like complete loss of control and its funny for me to crave what I naturally hate. It's sinking, almost floating and lost. Complete loss- loss of everything, inhibitions, concern.
It's desperate but not in a way that fights to survive, it gives up. Abandon.
I see this in my idols- no, in my heroes. The writers that came before me and the ones still present on this earth. I see this place in what they write, how they write it and how they lead or have lead their lives. I dare not call it insanity but just a deeper part of what's already there.
It has always felt like I have the choice. Like a sand cliff in the water, one could just step off and find no bottom at all. One could even have the edge break off and yet it can be more gradual than that. Almost a degradation, where you don't even notice it's happened until you're looking up and seeing where you once were.
Let's just say that for now, I'm not a very strong swimmer. My only hope is to find a balance. A way to reap the writing without stepping foot on that dark soil.

To Be You

We have done this before
This living that we do now.
Try, try, try again.
If I come back
I want to be you.
I can see what you're doing
and I could do it better.
Let me come back as you
And I'll be kind for sure.
I'll let my heart out
and mean it when I
speak to those I care for.
I know you'd love to be
A better you than you are.
I could make you someone
who listens to instinct.
You could be someone
Who is more peaceful,
Someone more loving.
Sure of yourself and of
The choices you make.
I'll be sure to be nicer
To your body and soul.
I'll even make sadness
A fleeting thing.
If you let me be you
I know I can make you
Into some one you could
Love.

5-9-09

composition-what we're made of

Amazing.
Today I was thinking how I didn't have enough to think. I google imaged the word amazing. It certainly is...religion to acts of paid carnal pleasure, which obviously hasn't much pleasure in it at all. I found people's dogs or horses that they deemed amazing. I found woman's bodies that were apparently amazing and genetically engineered roses. Also faith, art and pictures of nature. I felt a flood of answers to my question: What do people think is amazing? Every bit of humanity as I know it appeared to me. Deep dirty secrets, love and shallow attempts to fit in. We are full of so much as a kind. We fantasize about feet sexually and we dream of acceptance. Some say we are comprised of two parts, good and evil--building or tearing down. Can't we be made of so much more?

Not Emo, Just a Crisis

I'd have to say that I am by no means "emo" or whatever the kids are calling attention starved, sad people these days. Still, I do have the overwhelming sense of why give a crap? As though all things must be lifted and they are way heavier than you anticipated. In contrast, who I am is full of faith in things and people. I, who can revel in birdsong and warm smiles. It's often said, "Melly, its like you're always smiling!" Not true but a fair guess. I really do love people. Thankfully no one said I have to love them all- oh wait, Jesus did. I don't know about him today, he doesn't seem to love me. Today? No, I meant for a long time...Ancient hippies aside, I guess what I'm getting at are feelings of a quarter life crisis.
Sounds silly I know, but I have to point out the vastness of connections in our generation. We have the internet, globalisation and community, with a sense of being alone. This feeling is certainly universal and ageless. However, with all these connections it seems like hardly any are close and real. Like being at a function or party and feeling complete solitude. Without direction and focus, how are we to "find ourselves"?
At the same time, my only answer is effort, perspective and endurance. Which reminds me of "All this". You can wake up one day and say oh christ, all this?! or say ahh, all this! I suppose it's up to choice and will. If you really want to be happy, study the art of it and do it. Another thing easier said than done.